


Happy Birthday, Zelda

by ALTroute



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Selectively Mute Link (Legend of Zelda)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:14:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29646999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALTroute/pseuds/ALTroute
Summary: For the first time since Ganon's defeat, it's Zelda's birthday... and she's not sure how she feels about that.
Relationships: Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 56





	Happy Birthday, Zelda

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for the 35th Anniversary. Enjoy!

Zelda sat cross-legged on the hill over the village gate, tearing up blades of grass one at a time. Behind her, the great flag, as tall as a dozen of her, flapped in the steady breeze. Tattered and faded, the last five feet of it shredded, it had somehow survived a hundred years of rain and wind and neglect. 

The hill faced west to the wooded valley, the faintly glowing tower, the Dueling Peaks crowned with cloud, and beyond, though she couldn’t see it, Hyrule Castle. She didn’t _need_ to see it to feel it sitting there like the bleached bones of some terrible beast. 

101 years ago today, Zelda had turned 17. At the Spring of Wisdom, she had added one more failure to a long string of failures. When Ganon had returned, she had had nothing to offer while her Champions had died, one after the other. 101 years ago today, the Great Calamity had struck Hyrule, and Zelda had let it happen. 

She’d felt this day coming for weeks. She’d dreaded it, like it was a dark omen or a death sentence. There was no logical reason behind it, but still, she couldn’t help feeling something bad was going to happen today. How could it not? That the day was nearly over and nothing had happened yet meant little in the face of such irrational fear. 

Of course, there’d been a hundred other anniversaries before this one, but time had meant nothing in the castle, locked with Ganon in that endless battle of antithetical magics. It was hard to think about birthdays in that horrible cage, where the wear of hunger and thirst and sleeplessness could not kill, and age could not find foothold. 

It was as though this was her first birthday in a hundred years. And that was not a happy thought. 

Zelda remembered coming into Hateno Village for the first time since the Calamity. It was a hazy memory—she had been falling in and out of consciousness for who knows how long, clinging weakly to Link as he steered his mare gently over hills and under trees. She remembered how painfully glaring the sunlight was to her in those early days. She remembered the cloth of Link’s shirt under her fingers, the rhythm of his breath as she pressed against his back. She remembered little else.

He’d been quiet today. Link was always _quiet_ —his spoken words were rarer diamonds—but with signing, he could be _very_ chatty, once you got to know him. Today, though, he’d said little beside ‘ _Good morning_ ,’ and ‘ _Are you okay_ ?’ (“Yes,” she’d lied), and ‘ _I’ll be out today, won’t be back till afternoon.’_

That was okay, though. He was allowed to be quiet, or loud, or anything else. This wasn’t just an anniversary for her. He’d been there, too. He’d almost died. Zelda had dragged his limp body halfway across Central Hyrule, hoping he wouldn’t be dead before she reached the shrine.

She took a long, slow breath, and dug her fingers into the grass, catching dirt beneath her nails. It was getting late. And though her throat tightened at the thought of having to talk to anyone today, she should probably be getting home, lest Link worry. She’d worried him enough. 

Not that he didn’t worry _her_ plenty, Zelda thought as she brushed herself off and trudged downhill. He was a wild, sweet idiot, and he knew how to get himself into trouble. She’d only be working to even the score if she just... stayed out here for the night. But she went back through town anyway, past the model Bolson homes and across the little bridge, to the clay and stone house she and Link had shared since Ganon’s defeat.

Epona stood in the little stable next to Rhiannon, both horses chewing hay, so Zelda knew Link had returned. She placed her hand on the door and rehearsed a quick line about how she was fine and just tired, and didn’t want to talk, but when she pushed it open a scent struck her senses like an electric jolt. 

A sweet and familiar smell had filled the house, and as she stepped in, Link turned from the tiny oven to face her. His cheeks were flushed, probably from the oven’s heat. He offered her a small smile, and walking over to their dinner table placed down a pan of fresh, dark bread. 

Though it didn’t look the same, it smelled exactly as she remembered it, all those years ago, just as the royal cooks would make for her every year. 

_‘I know fruitcake is your favorite,'_ signed Link, ‘ _but I don’t know how to make frosting.’_ He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. 

Zelda laughed, a breathy sound with a million emotions inside. She tried to speak, but it came out practically a whisper, so she signed as well. 

_‘It’s wonderful.’_

Link had already set out clay dishware for the two of them, and now he gestured to the table. Zelda reached for the chair as he did, and her fingers brushed his as he pulled it out for her. She wanted to grab his hand, hold him close to her. Instead she sat with a thankful smile, as Link cut two slices out of the cake. It steamed, and smelled of sugar and apple and wildberries, and after a warning to let it cool, Link sat across from her and smiled. 

_‘Happy birthday, Zelda.’_

Zelda let out a shaky breath that might have almost been a laugh, and she was suddenly agonizingly aware of the tension in her shoulders and chest. 

“I’ve been afraid of today,” she admitted. 

_‘Me too,’_ signed Link. 

“I suppose I was half convinced something terrible would happen, as though by virtue of today being my birthday it was somehow more likely to contain tragedy than any other day!” Zelda placed her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands. “Irrational, I know.” 

_‘It’s not irrational,’_ Link signed.

Zelda smiled weakly. “It is, but I appreciate the assurance.” 

She let her gaze linger on the cake, the cozy house, the boy across the table, then she said, “It seems nothing terrible was destined to happen today after all.” She met Link’s eyes and a quiet relief washed over her. “Quite the opposite, in fact. I don’t think I could ever thank you enough for all you’ve done for me.”

Link held her gaze with that earnest seriousness of his. _‘It’s enough for me just to have you here.’_

Zelda’s heart skipped. She broke eye contact, her brain at once overworking and skidding to a halt. 

Link cleared his throat, and Zelda jerked her head up.

_‘It’s probably cool enough to eat now,’_ he signed and pointed to the cake.

“Oh! Yes of course.” 

They ate in silence for a while. As always, Link was a brilliant cook, but Zelda could only half-focus on how lovely the cake was. Her mind had entered overdrive, trying to construct a proper response and muster the strength to say it honestly. 

“Link?” She said softly.

He looked up. 

“I’m glad you’re here, too.”

He grinned ear to ear, and Zelda felt her cheeks grow warm. It was probably from the heat of the cake.


End file.
